


Warm Intentions, Cold Realities

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: King learns the ins and outs of Amestrian holiday celebrations, and learns some are intended to be celebrated among family more than the public. However, he has no family, and no hope of ever creating one.  Pride offers a suggestion, but it isn’t really what King wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tumblr’s fullmetalsecretsanta community, with my gift being for user flamxalchxmy, who requested something with King Bradley and his wife (whom they refer to as Louise) with an angsty twist. HUGE thanks to my beta Bay.

In the place where King was raised, they did not celebrate holidays.  He understood praise for achievements- those brief moments when he’d impressed one of his teachers to the point they acknowledged his efforts and hard earned skill.  But celebrating anything- one’s date of birth, a secular or religious holiday, even accolades- it was all lost on him.

Once he was changed into a monster and chosen as the Führer of Amestris, he learned he was going to have to adapt very quickly to celebrations, as his people celebrated his ascent to power with riotous cheering, drinking, and dancing in the streets.  He was given a birth date, it was made into a national holiday, and the people celebrated then as well.  When he married, his people reveled and rejoiced again.

For the most part, the parties and festivals were enjoyable, with plenty of food and drink to keep both him and Louise satisfied.  But some of the celebrations were geared toward family, and the young couple did not have much.  Louise’s mother was in a home for dementia patients, and King himself had been instructed by Father to tell her that he was an orphan with some distant relatives deep in the country near Liore.

But when his sweet wife began to ponder why she couldn’t become pregnant, despite their repeated attempts, he knew he had an unanticipated problem on his hands.

She was seated on a fine ottoman in the parlor at the Führer’s mansion, her head tipped back and looking at the glowing and decorated tree she’d just finished putting up for Midwinter.  Her usual cheerfulness had been replaced by a sadness he couldn’t place, a small frown on her soft lips making her unusual expression real for him. Her shoulders were slumped forward, and she didn’t look satisfied with her beautiful decorations. He stood beside her, smiling at her work of art.  King’s hand rested gently on her shoulder and she turned her face to his.

“There’s only one thing missing,” she said quietly.

He furrowed his brow at her.  “What do you mean?  It’s perfect.”

She looked down along the base of the tree, where a red velvet skirt disguised the stand.  “A beautiful baby, sitting in the floor and gazing with wonder.”

His black heart sank.  Despite knowing what the ultimate plan for his nation and countrymen was, he did genuinely love his wife, and he wanted to give her everything she wanted, even children, even though he knew he couldn’t now.

“They’ll come eventually,” he said, kneeling beside her.  He took her hand in his, then kissed her knuckles gently.  He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was never going to happen.  “Who knows, maybe the Holly King will place one under the tree on Midwinter morning.”

Louise’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but she nodded in agreement.  He changed the subject, asking instead if she wanted to go out to the northern cottage and spend a few days going for sleigh rides and watching the snowfall.  Her unenthusiastic reply let him know that there wasn’t anything that was going to fix this apart from successfully impregnating her.  This wouldn’t do at all.

He escorted her to their bedroom, where he made love to her as a show of trying to make her womb quicken.  Though of course nothing came of it, it did brighten her mood, and after she’d gone to sleep, he snuck away to converse with the shadows.

In the stables, no butler would follow him out there in the middle of the night without making a great deal of noise to alert him they were coming.  He sat on a bale of hay, speaking seemingly to no one.

“Can something be done?” he asked.

“Why?” came the short reply, the taint of evil evident in the way the inhuman voice echoed in the wooden pen.

King hesitated, then answered, “Because I know how much it means to her, and I don’t like seeing her unhappy.”

An ominous chuckle rang out and King scowled in the dark.  “Get her a kitten!  It cries, drinks milk, and likes to cuddle!”

King stood and paced the stall.  “Surely we can find someone who resembles me enough to collect enough semen to give her at least one child.”

Silence reigned in the stables, and King assumed Pride was conversing with Father, and hoped the outcome could be beneficial to all involved.

“Father says to focus your efforts on our upcoming campaign in Ishval.  You don’t have time to bother with a family.”

King sighed, knowing Father’s word was law.  “Fine.”

“Get her a kitten.”

He waved the suggestion away as he left the chilling cold night air behind him.  After warming up at the fire near the Midwinter tree, he summoned one of the servants to him and requested they find the most adorable kitten for Louise’s gift, and everything it would need to be healthy and happy.

The look of surprise on her face, then the look of joy when the tiny thing snuggled into her arms was priceless.  She was thrilled with the tiny animal, more hopeful than ever that she would bear him a son soon, none the wiser that her womb would never quicken by his seed.  Nevertheless, they raised a glass to the Holly King and toasted the return of the sun.  Her smile was brilliant as she echoed his words and drank, her kitten cuddled close to her breast, almost like a baby.

King tried not to think of the day when her face would be gray and lifeless as the burning alcohol slid down his throat.


End file.
